Those Nights
by Ragnosk
Summary: An American named Brad that accidentally thinks the Death Note is a journal and kills his friends. He is filled with rage and wants someone to take it out on. His now Shinigami knows just the people.
1. Chapter 1

Brad was happy school had just let out for the day. He was sick of having to go to school why the snow built up every minute. Getting home was becoming a chore.

"Blasted snow," he spoke out loud to his friends that walked with him.

"Snow is so much nicer when you're little and don't have to actually do things around it," Brad's friend Mick laughed.

Mick had always liked the snow. Brad, however, grew to hate it as he got older. "I'm just glad I don't have to drive to school," Brad replied.

"I hear that," Brad's friend Troy mumbled.

Brad had to smirk. Troy was always listening to his music when they walked home. He never expected to be listened to.

It didn't take the three long to get enough away from the school that they had to go their own ways. Brad waved goodbye to them and walked down his street. He shivered as he was trying to keep the idea of his warm bedroom alive.

Brad finally reached his house. It almost blended in with the snow. He and his father had just painted it before the storm came in. As he stepped up onto his porch, he heard a thud to his left. His hand stopped reaching for the door. He peered over slowly, his brown eyes scanning the snowy yard.

Removing his hood, Brad ran his hand through his black spikey hair to see if the hood had compressed it at all. It hadn't.

To his left, a rectangle impression lay in the snow. Curious, Brad immediately went to go look at it. In the center of the snow was a black journal. Two words on the cover seemed to shimmer in the snow. Brad quickly rubbed his eyes. He assumed his contacts were getting blurry from the snow.

He blinked a few times. The black journal had the words *Death Note* embroidered onto it in a silver color.

"Someone has a morbid sense of titling," he mumbled.

He looked around to see if anyone had thrown it at him. He didn't see anyone around. He scratched his head as he realized the impression was perfectly vertical. The journal didn't come from an angle, it came straight down into the snow. He reached down and picked it up. He looked up to see if there was a plane or anything that for some reason had dropped items out of it. The sky was too thick of clouds to tell. He shrugged and went back to his door.

After opening the door, Brad heard his mother call out.

"Hello hunny! How was school?"

"It was the usual."

"And how are your honor classes and exams going?"

Brad smiled widely as his mom came into view of the entrance hallway. "Acing them of course!"

"You're going to be a scientist someday, I'm sure!" She exclaimed proudly.

Brad chuckled a bit as he took off his shoes. His mother always got mad if he tracked water through the house. He thought about being a scientist of some sorts. He could easily do it with his classes and credits. He was only almost one semester away from graduation, but he was exactly sure on what he wanted to go to college for, let alone, which college.

"What's that you got there?" His mother asked, noticing the black journal.

"Just a composition notebook I found."

"You found it?"

"Yeah it was just laying in our front yard."

"Weird. Does it have a name in it?"

Brad set down his backpack. He opened the Death Note and scanned for a 'This belongs to:' page. There wasn't any, and no words yet written on the pages. He did notice the first several pages were completely black and covered in silver writing. It looked like gibberish to him.

"Doesn't look like it. Looks like some fancy notebook," Brad explained.

"Well okay then. Hey, remember dinner is at 5:30!" She called as she walked back to her room.

Brad just nodded, knowing she wouldn't see, but he didn't care. He simply walked down a hallway to the right and went to his room. He set the Death Note on his desk and went over to his closet to take off his jackets. He always wore two when it snowed.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He reached and dug it out. He looked at the brightly lit screen. He had several texts from Mick and a girl named Farah. He smiled to see he got a text from her. He looked to the Death Note on his desk. He never had a journal before.

Brad walked over to his desk. He set his phone down and reached for a pen. He opened the Death Note, giving a quick glance at the black pages once more. They still were almost blurry to his vision. He shrugged to himself and opened to the first page. He began to write about his day. He wrote it down in detail, picturing how it was to be in class and see Farah McGall, and his friends Mick Davis and Troy Williams. He even wrote about his favorite teacher.

After a few minutes of writing, Brad felt accomplished by his first entry. He set down his pen. He looked over to his bed. It called to him, so he went and laid down.

A hour or so passed when Brad's mother came in to tell him it was dinner time. He got up sluggishly and went to the dinner table. His father was out late again working for some business company. Brad didn't really care because he barely saw him. He and his mother ate and made small talk. It was mostly the same old conversations as every night. More talk about work for her and school for him.

Another hour passed and Brad and his mother had finished eating. He helped her clean up and before he knew it, it was going on 8 o'clock.

As he was heading to his room, Brad heard the doorbell ring. He immediately halted where he stood. His mind quickly raced at who it could be at this hour. It was a school night, so it surly couldn't be his friends. And his dad usually came home around 10 or later.

"Can you get that, hun?" His mother called out.

"Sure," Brad replied carefully.

He walked back into the entrance hallway. He went over to the door and opened it. On the other side were two policemen. Brad's eyes widened at the sight of the authority figures.

"Are one or both of your parents home, son?" One asked.

"Who is it?" Brad's mother asked as she came into view.

"Ma'am, we'd like to come in and ask a few questions," the other stated.

"What kind of questions? What's this about?"

"We have a strange case and are warning parents about what we may fear is some sort of drug going around in the local high school," the first policeman explained.

"What are you talking about?"

Brad stood there, listening.

"Well we have several students and a teacer that have died this evening. They all attended the high school. From what we've gathered, they have all died of heart attacks. At least that's what their friends or family explained what happened."

"What? That's crazy! Several in one night? What kind of drug could do that?!" Brad's mom demanded.

"We aren't sure ma'am. We are going to continue to investigate the school. We fear it might be something slipped in the food."

"Well my boy brings his own lunch," she replied.

"Do you, son?" The policeman asked directly at Brad.

Brad was hesitant to answer. His mind was wondering who had died.

"Uh...yeah, sorry. I do. Every day," Brad finally spat out.

"Good to hear. Keep doing that."

"Can't you close the school temporarily or something?" Brad's mom asked.

"Not until we have more information, sorry."

"Well alright. Thanks for telling us."

The policemen tipped their caps slightly. "Have a safe night."

"Wait!" Brad exclaimed suddenly.

"Yes, son?" One policeman asked curiously.

"Any chance you could tell me who died?"

"Well it usually goes against protocol, but all parties have said they would be in the morning paper..." The policeman explained as he pulled out his notepad and flipped through it. "Mick Davis, Troy Williams, Farah McGall, and Hugh Noble."

Brad's heart sank. He wasn't sure how to take that news. Without thinking, he immediately put on a fake expression and replied, "Oh, I see. Thanks. Have a safe night."

He closed the door. His mother looked at him. "Those are your friends, aren't they?"

"Yeah..."

"I'm so sorry hun," she replied with a hug.

After a few minutes of embracing him, she then said, "If you need to stay home tomorrow, you can. Go get some sleep and try not to think about it too much, okay?"

Brad just nodded. He didn't know what to do. He went to his room and shut the door behind him. He walked over to his bed and fell face first. He never cried often, but he couldn't hold back the tears now. His friends and favorite teacher had all died.

"You had to write in it, didn't you?" A voice asked.

Brad sat straight up, frightened by the voice. He looked around and saw a figure in the corner of his room. "Who are you?!" Brad exclaimed.

"Me?" The figure said, stepping into the light of his desk lamp. He was tall. Brad wondered how such a tall man was able to get into their house. His clothes were gray and ragged. Even for his terrible clothes, the man was handsome and looked to be a young adult. "You wrote in the Death Note," The man said as he smiled, "I'm your shinigami."


	2. Chapter 2

Brad sat completely still. He wasn't sure what a _shinigami_ was.

"What do you mean?"

The man brought his hand to his forehead and sighed. "It means god of death."

"A _god of death_? You don't look like a god, or death," Brad admitted.

"Name's Zaramaru. I dropped that Death Note you wrote in," the man explained anyways.

" _You_ dropped it? I didn't even see anyone. How did you drop it?"

Zaramaru stared blankly at Brad. "It got knocked out of my pouch," he replied as he looked to his side. Brad noticed he had a messenger bag-like sack strapped to his side. He noticed another Death Note inside.

"You have two?"

"I've got to have more than one if I'm traveling the human world. I can _NOT_ drop my own Death Note."

Brad sat puzzled for a minute. 'Human world' ran through his head. "So you actually think you're a god of death then?"

"I don't think. I _am_! More specifically, your god of death at this moment."

"My god of death? What for?"

"You're taking this a lot easier than most humans would," Zaramaru chuckled as he moved his gray hair out of his face.

"Well...to be honest, you aren't intimidating."

Zaramaru frowned. He lifted his hands. A massive sword appeared out of thin air. He gripped it and swung it around, pointing it at Brad. Brad backed away on his bed.

"Shinigami has a few different translations in your language. Did you even read the rules to the Death Note?"

Brad blinked a few times and swallowed hard. He shook his head slowly. Zaramaru facepalmed once again, holding his sword with only one hand. Brad had to admire his strength to do so.

"You wrote peoples's names in the Death Note. When you do that, they die...to put it simply...there are quite a bit of rules."

Brad tilted his head. He looked over to his desk. He decided to get up slowly and move over to the desk. Zaramaru's red eyes followed him. Brad opened up the Death Note to the black pages once again. This time, the words were clear.

"They were blurry before..."

"Death Notes are used by us shinigami, so the words are translated to those who see it."

"You are speaking English though. Shinigami sounds like a Japanese word."

"Just...don't question the supernatural," Zaramaru stated.

Brad couldn't help but nod. He had to agree with that statement. He studied the first pages. As he read, he grew more and more angry. He saw his mistake. He didn't realize he had killed his own friends.

"That's not fair..."

"Life isn't very fair kid," Zaramaru replied.

Zaramaru floated over to Brad. He didn't think too much off it now. In a few seconds, he had accepted what he had done. He clenched his fists.

"Why did you have to drop this?!" Brad demanded.

Zaramaru smirked. "Wasn't my fault, but hey, you're the one who picked it up."

Brad smacked the Death Note off his desk. It landed to the side.

"You're stuck with me until I decide you need to die," Zaramaru chuckled as he floated to his side.

"I noticed that. I don't go to heaven or hell, just nothing..."

The Death Note sat open on the floor. Brad glared at it. He didn't want his mom coming in here and touching it, so he sat up and picked it up.

"Brad, who are you talking to?" He heard his mom call out.

'What timing,' Brad told himself.

"As long as she doesn't touch it, she won't see me," Zaramaru said as he poked his head through the door.

Brad jerked in surprise to see the strange being do such a thing. "She's kinda cute."

"That's my mom! Just...don't!"

"I'm just messing around. Trying to lighten the mood."

Brad frowned. His mom opened the door and walked right through Zaramaru.

"What was that hun?"

"Nothing, sorry. Guess just talking to myself."

His mom gave him another hug and said, "You need to get some sleep."

Brad nodded after she let go of him. She left and closed the door behind her. Brad looked to Zaramaru.

"I don't sleep," he stated bluntly.

Brad's expression became uncomfortable. Zaramaru could tell. "I'll wait outside. I need to make sure what made me drop that Death Note, doesn't come back."

"And what would that be?"

"Another soul reaper, or death god. Shinigami is such an easier word. Mind if I keep to that? It's just so normal for me."

Brad cracked a smile at how American Zaramaru seemed. "Why would another god of- er...shinigami...be after you?"

Zaramaru smiled widely again. It gave Brad a chill. As human as Zaramaru was, he didn have a morbid look about him. He simply pointed to the Death Note.

"I was able to get that before he was."

Brad looked at his Death Note. He wasn't sure how comfortable he felt that another god of death was out there, looking for it.

Zaramaru walked through the wall, waving behind him. Brad stood in the center of his room, unsure of what to do or say. He looked to his Death Note. He opened it back to the rules and crawled into his bed. He turned his ceiling light off and a desk light on.

He began to look over the rules carefully. He studied them over and over.

* * *

The sun shined in from Brad's only window. He had no blinds or curtains to cover the rays. The sun reached his face as it slowly rose in the sky. After a few minutes, Brad had opened his eyes. Zaramaru sat in front of him.

Brad yelled out a bit in shock to the grimmed face shinigami. Zaramaru laughed.

"You're up dear? How are you feeling?" Brad's mother called out.

Brad sat up and rubbed his eyes with his palms. His sheets slid down to his lap. The cold room air sent a quick chill all over his bare torso.

His door opened. His mother poked her head in. Zaramaru leaned completely back, almost like ghosts would do in some horror movies Brad had seen. Brad took his eyes off of the shinigami and looked back to his mother.

"You look like you were studying all night," his mother admitted.

Brad was studying the Death Note, so his eyes must've shown it.

"Just couldn't sleep I guess."

"Well, tell you what, I'll call the school and let them know you won't be there today. I'll make you your favorite breakfast as well."

"Sounds good mom." Brad said, with a slight smile.

"She seems nice," Zaramaru said.

Brad instinctively looked towards the shinigami, without thinking how weird it would be to his mother to see him staring at his floor. He shook his head and nodded. "Thanks mom."

She smiled and closed the door. Zaramaru sat up straight.

"So did anything bad happen last night?" Brad asked quietly.

"No, it looks like the other shinigami seems to have kept his distance."

"Well good..."

"So I could tell you were reading all the rules," Zaramaru said as he stood up and stretched.

"There are so many of them. It's so elobrate. My logical senses tell me this thing is garbage, but you are here, and my mother can't see you...either I'm going crazy, or this thing is completely real," Brad ranted.

"Well there is only one way to test it."

Brad nodded. "It's incredibly morbid."

"I _am_ a god of _death_!" Zaramaru emphasized.

Brad waved his hands at him to dismiss his statement. "I _know_...at least I think I do. But you are right. If this thing works, at least it tells me I'm not crazy."

Zaramaru seemed to chuckle at the idea. Brad climbed out of his bed and stretched. He picked up the clothes he barely managed to take off before he fell asleep. He tossed them into his hamper of dirty clothes.

"If you could stay here...I'd prefer not to be watched while I shower."

"Do I look like some sort of pervert?" Zaramaru cackled.

Brad didn't feel he needed to reply. He simply grabbed clean clothes from his closet and walked a bit down the hallway. His father was already gone to work, and his mother was busy in the kitchen, so he didn't feel so awkward walking around in his boxers. The bathroom was in the same hall as his room.

After turning the light on, Brad set his clean clothes on the counter, next to the sink. He closed the door and locked it, out of habit. He stood in front of the sink and stared at himself in the mirror.

'You're not crazy, Brad,' he told himself, "Or am I?'

He turned on the water and cupped his hands underneath it. He splashed it against his face. The water felt nice, even though it was cold. Brad turned to the shower and turned on the water. It would take a few seconds to become hot.

He sat down on top of the closed toilet. He put his face in his hands.

"Hey, what's your mom cooking?" Zaramaru asked, poking his head through the wall.

Brad jumped up from the toilet in surprise. He frowned in anger. "Why?!" He demanded loudly.

"Hey, human food is so much more... _fresh_ than shinigami food. Our realm is mostly barren. Why do you think I'm hear?"

"Brad? You okay?" Brad's mom asked outside the door.

"Yeah, sorry. I just...um...dropped my shampoo...?" Brad questioned as he said it.

"Oh...okay...well hurry in there. Your food will be ready soon."

Brad looked to Zaramaru. He frowned and backed away out of the bathroom. Brad shook his head. He dropped his boxers to the floor and got in the shower. He stood there, letting the water hit him as he rested his head against the shower wall.

He sighed and decided it was best to finish showering so he could eat.

It was only a few minutes in the shower and then a few minutes getting dressed and spiking his hair. His hair always looked the best right after getting ready.

He headed out to the kitchen. His mom was wearing her apron. Brad knew that was a sign of her cooking his favorite kinds of pancakes. She was clumsy so she got the powder everywhere. That's why she wore the apron.

"Hope you like them!" She cheerily said to him.

"Of course I will mom."

Brad sat down and ate several pancakes. After eating several stacks, he left a few on his plate. He leaned back in his chair. He watched his mom cleaning up at the kitchen sink. She was staring out the window.

"Hey, you going to finish those?" Zaramaru asked.

Brad jumped slightly. For a few minutes, he had forgotten he was haunted by the shinigami. He shook his head to Zaramaru. The god of death smiled widely and floated through the kitchen table and picked up the pancakes. He ate them in one bite. Brad had never seen anything so horrifying when it came to food.

"Thanks!" He exclaimed as he licked his lips. "I love human food!"

"Huh...that's strange. I've seen that kid walk by our house several times." Brad's mother said as she set dishes into the drainer.

Zaramaru looked over to the window. Brad eyed him carefully.

"Oh...shit."

Brad looked to his mother, unsure of what Zaramaru was worried about. His mother reached for a kitchen knife in the sink. She turned to Brad. Her eyes seemed blank. Soap and water dripped from the knife as she raised it to her throat.

"Mom!" Brad exclaimed.

"I love you son," she said slowly and zombie-like, almost like she was being forced to.

"Shit! It's another Death Note! Get away from the windows!" Zaramaru yelled.

Brad's eyes were already filled with tears, even before the knife began to cut at her neck. He watched her drag the knife roughly across her throat, blood pouring out.

"If you don't wanna die, get away from the _FUCKING WINDOWS_!" Zaramaru shouted.

Brad watched his mother fall to the floor. In the distance, he saw person holding a black notebook. Instinctively, Brad kicked off the table, causing himself to fall to the floor.

"He has the eyes! He found us after all!"

Crawling on the ground, Brad sniffled. He wasn't sure what to do.

"We're sitting ducks in here as long as he has the shinigami eyes. Fucking hell," Zaramaru stated.

He couldn't look back to his mother. He couldn't bring himself to see. Brad was blaming himself for picking up the Death Note and causing this all to happen.

After a few seconds, he clenched his fists. "No, we are getting out of here."

"You have an idea, huh?"

"Sort of," Brad replied, trying not to break down again.

Brad crawled quickly, avoiding the areas of the house with windows. He went into his room first, rolling in as fast as he could, and grabbed his Death Note. Zaramaru was spotting for him.

"I don't think he can get over here fast enough to see you."

"Good," Brad said as he grabbed a couple of pens.

He held the Death Note close and subtly went out to the entrance hallway. He put the black notebook in his bag and the pens. Brad zipped up the bag, and put it on his back.

"What's your idea?" Zaramaru asked.

"In the garage."

Brad crawled back towards the kitchen. He remained focused and didn't look at his mother. On the other side of the kitchen, there was a door to the garage. Brad made it easily and went inside.

There wasn't any windows inside, so Brad stood up and turned on the light. Zaramaru ran his head along the outside of the garage.

"He can't see me unless he touches that Death Note of yours. You can't see his shinigami either."

"I know, I know. What's he doing?"

"Waiting. He is walking slowly over here, but he is just waiting."

Brad walked over to his father's shelves that were in the garage. He smiled as he saw what he came in here for.

"Good thing my dad was always too busy to make his motorcycle love into a practical hobby."

Zaramaru looked back over his shoulder and smiled as he saw the motorcycle helmet that was on the shelf.

Brad picked it up and put it on.

"So where are we off to?"

"My dad. I've got to tell him things...just in case."

"Well don't you think leading this guy to your dad will be a bad idea?"

"I'll get to him first...I have a feeling of what my dad will say, so we may not have to worry."

Zaramaru tilted his head, but nodded anyways. Brad put the black visor down on the helmet. He slammed the button to open the garage door. As soon as it was open enough, he ran.


	3. Chapter 3

Brad ran as fast as he could from his house. The images of his mother slitting her throat still haunted his mind. He shook his head, trying to shake the thoughts.

"Do you think they'll catch up to us?" He asked in his muffled tone, from the bike helmet.

"They know where we are heading. The shinigami is right on our tail, so the human won't be far behind. You aren't dead yet. You can never get a shinigami to tell you a name, so it's only the boy you have to be worried about."

"That's comforting I suppose."

"He may already know your name, but, again, you aren't dead, so he doesn't know your face."

Brad's heart pounded in his chest. It was all happening so fast.

As he ran, people gave him strange looks. Wearing a motorcycle helmet without a motorcycle must've looked strange. He didn't mind as much. It was cold outside, so the warmth of his head trapped inside the helmet.

"So," Zaramaru spoke as he flew beside Brad, "What are your plans?"

"Plans?"

"Well, you must have some sort of plan for risking your dad's life," Zaramaru explained.

"I guess so..."

Zaramaru stared blankly, waiting for Brad to elaborate, but it never did.

"Tell me about your realm," Brad huffed as he turned down a street, trying not to slip on the thin ice that lined the sidewalks.

Zaramaru chuckled slightly. "What's there to tell? A gray place filled with gray objects. It looks like someone burned the entire place down. It's a place for death."

"How many shinigami are there?"

Zaramaru tilted his head in thought. "Too many. It's a large vast open space with one entrance to the human world. The other shinigami tend to keep to themselves, making sure to extend their lives by killing people."

"It sounds so morbid and grim."

"And yet, you don't sound so distasteful of it," Zaramaru laughed.

Brad thought about it. The idea of killing someone to extend ones' own life sounded more appealing when you are running for your life against supernatural forces.

"I suppose not."

It wasn't long before they were in front of the tall skyscrapers that made up the business part of town. Brad knew exactly which one to go to, even without seeing his father often.

It was a few more minutes and Brad was already entering one of the buildings. "Will you go away!" Zaramaru shouted to the other shinigami.

Brad let them fight it out as he went straight to the elevator.

Zaramaru opened his hand. His scythe of choice was his massive sword. It appeared in his hand. The other shinigami came in through the wall of the lobby.

"I got to that Death Note fair and square, Daertel!" Zaramaru yelled.

Daertel was one of the more grotesque shinigamis. He didn't look anything close to human. He was skeleton-like, his bones showing on his limbs. His face looked like a shrunken head that still somehow retained normal head size.

"That was mine! You and all the others knew that I had been trailing Ryuk for years! His time had finally come where he didn't care to write any more names! That Death Note is mine!" Daertel shouted, spit falling from his leathery lips.

"Too bad! I know you'd love to have your hands on the Death Note that Kira himself held, but that kind of prize doesn't need to be in the hands of a shinigami. A human doesn't need it either, especially to not try and repeat that mess. Several shinigami were discovered those years back..."

"Bah! I don't care for your petty peace. I want that notebook!"

Zaramaru swung his sword around to in front of him. "No."

Daertel opened his hands. A typical scythe appeared. "You guys have no style," Zaramaru cackled.

The elevator doors opened to the 22nd floor. Brad stepped out and walked down the hallways of cubicals until he reached side offices.

"Brad?" His father asked, noticing him first.

"Dad! You're in danger!"

"What? Why do you have my helmet?"

Brad's father looked like an older version of him. He was the spitting image of his father's side of the family.

"I had to hide my face from the person who is following me."

"Someone following you?! Why didn't you go to the police?!" Brad's father demanded.

"Cus they can't deal with this problem. It's...on a whole new level of problematic."

"What are you talking about son?"

Brad walked his father and him into his office. He closed the door and began from the moment he picked up the notebook. He explained how that night he wrote in it like a journal and what had happened. He explained about Zaramaru. He choked up a bit as he got to explaining about his mother. Brad's father was in disbelief of how outrageous the story sounded.

"I know it sounds crazy, but please," Brad said as he reached in his bag and pulled out the death note, "Touch this and you will see my shinigami."

Brad's father raised his eyebrow. Brad could tell he was reaching for the phone to call his mother. He sighed, leaning over towards Brad. He reached out his hand and grabbed the Death Note. Brad noticed what seemed like a black and white ripple spread across the room.

"So where is this 'shinigami' then?"

Brad cleared his throat. He looked out the office window and saw Zaramaru fighting, mid-air, with something he couldn't see.

"That's him, flying with the sword."

Brad's father looked. His eyes widened. He rubbed his eyes to make sure he was seeing it correctly. "That doesn't look like a god of death...but..." His father slumped down in his chair.

"So...it's true then..."

Brad looked to his father. Sadness had filled the room. "Your mother is dead because of another one of those?" He asked as he pointed to the Death Note. In return, Brad nodded slowly.

"I still don't know if I believe you or not...but if you tell me this thing can kill people, and has already killed my dear wife..."

"Dad, I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

"It's fine son...but listen. If there is someone coming to kill me in such a painful way, like they did your mother, I'd rather you write in yours and kill me faster."

"What?! No dad!" Brad exclaimed, yet he had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that his father was going to react this way.

"It is a win win. Proves that you are telling the truth, and I get to die easier...and hopefully see your mother again in the next life...or after life."

Brad sat there quietly. He thought it over. He wasn't sure what the other Death Note user would do. Imagination is endless when it comes to killing your enemies. He sighed after several minutes and opened the Death Note.

"If I just write your name, you'll have a heart attack after 40 seconds. It's quick and only momentarily painful."

"Better than what could be coming for me..."

Brad opened his pen and put the cap on the end of it. He slowly began to write his father's name.

"Don't think of this as giving up son...I can't live without your mother. I just can't."

He nodded in reply as he finished the last name. "If this works, you shouldn't be here to see. Go please. I will call you if this is just a giant joke." His father chuckled lightly.

Brad tried to crack a smile but couldn't. He already had the idea that this was going to be the only way to protect his family against harm. Getting rid of all of his loved ones was the only way to keep them from dying any worse than they could. He left the office and heard the door tap the wall as he swung it all the way open. He had already been counting the seconds.

Brad stepped into the elevator and almost as fate had known, forty seconds had passed. He heard the grunts of pain from his father and the rush of people getting up to see the business man fall to the floor. The doors closed a second after.


End file.
